


Refrigerator

by CyanPanties



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 19:42:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20981318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyanPanties/pseuds/CyanPanties
Summary: I've always thought of myself as an average person. In the general aspect of having a roof under which I live, a loving family -maybe not so much-, assisting to an average educational institution, being able to dress warm in winter and light in summer and not having the necessity of killing to get food.This last one leads me to a problem that, according to some sites of social media and the brief conversations in which I've dived into in the span of my short life, occurs to the majority of people, in what I've come to understand.





	Refrigerator

I've always thought of myself as an average person. In the general aspect of having a roof under which I live, a loving family -maybe not so much-, assisting to an average educational institution, being able to dress warm in winter and light in summer and not having the necessity of killing to get food.

This last one leads me to a problem that, according to some sites of social media and the brief conversations in which I've dived into in the span of my short life, occurs to the majority of people, in what I've come to understand. 

I suppose that you, my reader in this precise moment, are too part of this category of average people. Thence you will have one of these amazing machines to preserve food inside a kitchen in a home called refrigerators, will you not? And, still supposing that you are part of this generic of average people, when you are in your house and your stomach demands for a casual snack unfolding your appetite, you go to that specific place inside the kitchen -that you should have, still considering you an average person- in which your refrigerator is found to open the magnetic door and toss a glance in search of something to put in your mouth and calm the little monster that your belly has created at this point for being waiting for the food that you have forbid it in the so minutes that this achievement has taken you.

I propose, at this stage, that you have already understood my point and that you can relate with this situation, dear reader. So I will take the liberty of assuming that, following the former position, once your stomach has calmed down, you go back to the activity you left half done -be it work, a mandate or something as simple and mundane as breathing- to continue without further inconvenience and probably finishing to later go to rest. Though I doubt you will need rest after breathing, that wouldn't make any sense.

Let’s suppose now that you have already finished your former activity, you know, the one that got interrupted by the appetite your stomach created only to complicate your life, and you are happily laying on your bed, sofa, or even the floor. I do not know what weird sense of comfort you may have, reader. You do not want to get up for any reason, even going to the bathroom would be a torment, but once again your tummy asks you for something to fill it up, it seems like it never gets tired. So, with the annoyance of having to stand on your feet again, you guide yourself towards the fridge and go back to sticking your head inside to look whilst the freezing air oozes out of the door to stow itself in the places that once upon a time were warm. Or at least until you opened the door. 

You extend one arm to take any element from inside the machine when you notice that the last thing there was you have already consumed. You remind yourself to go to the store to resupply on food but the appetite is gone. With resignation you go back to the starting place and return on your task of doing nothing else but being comfortable.

I think you already know where this is going, reader, or at least that is how I imagine it.

The third time you get up to see what is inside the fridge is not due to hunger but for mere boredom, that you do not know how to get rid of so your mind visualizes the only way in which you could do it, even if just for a brief moment.

And the following times you don’t even get up because of the boredom that not doing nothing is causing you, you only open the door of cold to see how many things you remember from the last trip not more than fifteen minutes ago.

I believe there is one thing we can agree on, my reader. And it is the fact that the whole world, or at least average people like you and me, does this at least once a week.

But one thing we will never share -or so I hope with all my heart- is the terrifying experience of trying to write a short text and spend more than twenty minutes because your refrigerator is peeking at you from the door of your room with its hard and cold gaze, loaded in metal and plastic, over your rigid and frightened figure.

**Author's Note:**

> Fin.


End file.
